


A Fully Deserved Punishment

by GemmaRose



Series: Kinktober 2019 [5]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: A little bit of plot, Alternate Universe - Harem, Breeding, Claiming, Claiming Bites, Come Inflation, Electricity, Enthusiastic Consent, Exhibitionism, Fucking Machines, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Orion Pax Gets Wrecked, Pain, Porn With Plot, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Tentacles, implied/referenced past rape/non-con, plot is implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 04:10:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21030041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: Megatron prides himself on keeping order in his household. Scorponok's little "mutiny" has thrown said household into chaos. Obviously, Scorponok must be punished. And what better way to do so than to let him see just how eager Orion is to go back to the way things were?





	A Fully Deserved Punishment

“You know what you did.” Megatron growled, scowling at Scorponok’s pitiful form where he was strapped in place on the fragging machine. “And you will be paying the price for so long, I may have to commission that mech from New Iacon to make a second one of these for whoever else may merit punishment while you suffer.”

Scorponok whined, one of the few sounds his vocaliser could still produce after Shockwave had gotten his clever fingers on it, and Megatron scowled at him harder as the mech’s field reached out to him. “You attempted to murder me, literally threw me out of my own home, sparked up _every last one_ of my mechs, and you’re begging? For what, more punishment?!” he closed the distance between them and struck Scorponok across the face with the back of his hand, the rough edges around his knuckle servos cutting thin links of pink in his derma.

“I could beat you every day.” he snarled, looming over Scorponok’s limbless form and projecting as much menace in his field as he could muster, which was quite a lot. “I could have Overlord and the miscreant Shockwave set something up to cause you constant agony, until your processor associates pain with pleasure and you can no longer overload without it.” that was actually a good idea, he’d have to hold onto that for the next time Scorponok put him in a foul mood. “I could rip even more of your plating off, weld your chestplate shut so you get a taste of what it will be like to have your valve permanently sealed and your anterior node removed.”

Scorponok trembled, field turning supplicative. Megatron struck him again, a closed fist to the other cheek. “You will have no relief, until I deem it so.” Scorponok’s helm fell, as much as the harness holding it in place would allow, and he cast his optics down. Megatron ex-vented heavily, and accessed the remote control of the machine Scorponok was bound to, setting it to its highest setting of power and random patterns, changing every three kliks. Scorponok let out a wordless cry, and Megatron smirked at him before turning to the door. Now for the part of this long-term punishment that Scorponok would hate the most: taking care of the fourteen new carriers he’d claimed as his own.

Megatron had been careful to only spark up one, maybe two of the mechs in his possession at a time. His transfluid reserves were finite in size and took time to replenish, after all. And it wouldn’t do to have any spawn of his come out undersized due to lack of materials during forging. Not to mention, carriers required mineral-rich fuel and couldn’t fight and- no, he _did not_ like having many of his mechs carrying. And yet, due to Scorponok, now every last one of them was. Including petite Orion and the lean, finely-tuned Starscreams.

Scorponok was a big mech, and Megatron was bigger. He was more than a touch worried for their health, especially the seekers. They were stupid, Starscreams all were it seemed, and vain, and they would carry three sparklings at the very least. Orion, bless his spark, was level-helmed and knew to listen to his frame, he would stay in his berth when the sparkling inevitably grew too large for him to go about his regular duties. The Starscreams might have to be strapped down, just to stop them getting in fights with each other while they were carrying. Pit, he might just lock them in their habsuites before they got to that point and simply tell them it was for their own safety. Let them assume they were being kept safe from the other Starscreams, not themselves.

“Megatron!” Orion stood when Megatron rounded the corner into the hall where he was seated with a datapad, and Megatron offered an arm to his archivist. A little show of manners now and again kept the mech wrapped around his fingers, loyal as could be. Loyal enough, even, to agree wholesparkedly to tormenting Scorponok despite not having a single cruel strut in his frame. One of his hands traced a weld mark that ran across Megatron’s side as they walked, Megatron slowing his pace for his companion’s shorter legs, and he couldn’t help but smile down at Orion. No other mech in this household had been as worried for him when he finished putting Scorponok in his place, save perhaps one of the Soundwaves.

“Are you ready?” he asked as he opened the door to the room where Scorponok had been strapped to the fragging machine, and Orion nodded.

“Then let us begin.” Megatron swept Orion up into his arms without warning, delighting in the way his little non-Prime yelped and clung to him without hesitation. Scorponok’s optics were locked on them as Megatron brought Orion over to the bench he usually used for sitting and watching whoever was being punished to make sure they weren’t enjoying themself too much. It was sturdy, solidly made, and most importantly it was wide enough he didn’t have to worry about any of his partners falling off. He laid Orion out across it, and ran a palm over the slight swell of his belly. Just the barest bump where the sparkling below had begun to develop. It was warm under his touch, and he began to wonder how warm it would be when Orion’s forge kicked into high gear later in the carriage.

Orion’s arms lifted to wrap around the back of his neck and helm, and he cast a smirk at Scorponok before letting his little archivist pull him down for a kiss. Orion’s legs were already spread wide, his modesty panels transformed away to show his needy little valve, lubricant tracing a thin line down towards his aft already. “Eager?” he asked, and Orion nodded.

“I want you to make this sparkling yours.” Orion turned his helm just slightly, optics narrowing as he glared at Scorponok, mouth turned down in the most adorable little scowl. “Not _his_.”

“Gladly.” Megatron purred, planting one hand on the bench next to Orion and slipping the other between his thighs, sliding two fingers easily into the snug little valve at their apex. “Tell me, Orion, are you looking forward to carrying?”

“I wasn’t.” Orion cast one last nano-klik of a glare at Scorponok before turning back to Megatron, radiant a smile softening his faceplates. “Until you promised to make the sparkling yours.” he rocked his hips up against Megatron’s fingers, helm falling back against the bench as he moaned softly. Megatron’s engines revved, hard, and he looked over at Scorponok to smirk. All that planning, all that _effort_, and he’d managed to completely overlook what it took to keep a mech like Orion in his harem. Overlord and Tarn, the Starscreams and the Optimi, they had to be subdued with force, kept at each other’s throats. The Shockwaves and Soundwaves stayed out of loyalty, as did Lugnut, but Orion stayed for _love_.

“Good mech.” Megatron purred, returning his attention to the lithe frame below him as he slipped a third finger into Orion’s valve and began spreading him in earnest. Off to the side Scorponok moaned, and on a whim Megatron activated another features of the fragging machine. Normally the mech being punished was bound in place by tentacles, clever little things which squirmed their tips into seams and prickled with low-level charge at irregular intervals. He’d foregone them with Scorponok originally since, well, he’d ripped the mech’s limbs clean off and there was nothing for them to attach to. But Scorponok had never liked them, so why not let them flail around and keep the mech uncomfortable?

“Megatron.” Orion gasped, drawing Megatron’s undivided attention again, and a slender blue hand wrapped around his spike. The pressure made him hiss, fingers curling reflexively, and Orion let out the most beautiful moan even as Megatron’s fingers screeched along the bench at his side. “Please, I’m ready.”

“Not ready enough for it not to hurt.” he reminded Orion, rocking his hips into the mech’s expert grip.

“I-” Orion’s field flushed with shame, and Megatron went still. “I want you to hurt me.” he admitted, and Megatron withdrew his fingers. “Scorponok wasn’t gentle, and I keep-” his hands both flitted over his frame, touching on places where Megatron had noticed dents when he first returned. “I want to feel like I’m yours again, Megatron.” Orion’s blue optics locked with his, as pleading as his field, and Megatron dropped down to press a hard kiss to his delicate little mouth.

“You have always been mine.” he growled when they parted. “Since the moment you set pede in this universe, you have been _mine_.” he moved one hand to grip Orion’s hip, the other to his spike to guide it. “And that Scorponok made you feel any differently is another crime he will have to be punished for.”

Both their gazes flicked to the mech in question, whose optics weren’t even online now, and Megatron noted that the tentacles had sought out the stumps where Scorponok’s limbs had once been. That couldn’t be pleasant, having electrical charge run directly into his open wounds. He’d have to remember that.

“Please.” Orion whimpered, and Megatron sank into him obligingly. He was tight, tighter than usual, but wet enough that the first half of Megatron’s spike sank into him unimpeded. Orion gripped hard at his shoulders, vocaliser spitting a stream of static interrupted only by needy little gasps and mewls as Megatron began to feel proper resistance and rolled his hips. Orion typically liked to take it slow, to be teased into begging and then brought crashing over the edge in the blink of an optic. Tonight though, Megatron resolved to frag him the way Scorponok must’ve, hard and rough, domineering. Claiming. He bent his helm and bit down on Orion’s shoulder, _hard_, drawing a pitched moan from the slender mech.

“Mine.” he growled when he pulled away, shifting to place a matching mark on Orion’s other shoulder. “And _no other’s_.”

“Yours.” Orion gasped, hips jerking up off the bench to take Megatron deeper. “Ha- har-”

“Harder?” Megatron asked, and Orion nodded quickly, his desperate whine far more intelligible through the static than his attempts at glyphs had been. Megatron pulled near entirely out, and snapped his hips forward to drive his spike back in, forcing the last third as Orion let out a static shriek, valve clenching vice-tight around Megatron’s spike. Not tight enough to stop him from moving though, and so he did, pounding into Orion’s clenching valve as hard as he could without actually breaking the little mech. “So tight.” he hissed, shifting his hips with each thrust, searching for Orion’s ceiling node.

“Need- yo-yo-you.” Orion’s vocaliser glitched through his moaned words, and Megatron thrust harder, scraping him along the bench.

“Mine.” he snarled again, and glanced over at Scorponok, whose optics were still shuttered. That just wouldn’t do. ::Do not make me come over there and weld your optic shutters open.:: he commed Scorponok, laying menace and promise thick in his subglyphs. Scorponok’s optics glowed overbright, and Megatron smirked before returning his attention to Orion. “My precious little Orion.” he purred, thrusting hard into the mech’s valve. “How beautiful you will be, heavy with my sparkling.” he thrust again, and finally the tip of his spike struck Orion’s ceiling node, sending the mech into another overload. This time he let himself tip over the edge as well, falling completely into the throes of his pleasure and pounding into Orion with all his strength, fairly ramming each spurt of transfluid into his newly opened gestation tank. Orion wailed and clutched at him, fingers digging into seams as they rode the crest of their pleasure together, and when his overload had finished Megatron pulled out with a low groan, appreciating the way Orion’s hips twitched up after his.

“There we go.” he purred, rubbing a hand over the swollen curve of Orion’s belly, protometal stretched thin and tight over a transfluid-heavy gestation tank. “Aft up, now.” he gripped Orion’s hips and lifted them, letting his little partner find a comfortable position that kept every drop of Megatron’s transfluid inside. The less that was wasted, the better. The sparkling had to take after the two of them, after all, not Scorponok, and that meant getting as much of Megatron’s CNA into Orion as was physically possible.

Orion’s field pressed against his, hot and needy, and Megatron chuckled as he rubbed a thumb over Orion’s pulsing anterior node. “Ready to go again?” he asked, and Orion nodded, vocaliser clicking as he tried to reset it and failed. “Hmm, my spike needs just slightly longer. to repressurise.”

Orion twisted without warning in his hands, spinning on his knees so that he faced Megatron, still with his aft in the air, and Megatron grinned as the mech bent his helm to Megatron’s spike cover and began to lick at it, glossa tracing the rim and nearby blue paint transfers almost reverently. Megatron hummed happily, and rested a hand on the back of Orion’s helm as he cast another smirk over at Scorponok, who was whining weakly but still watching. Good, Megatron didn’t want to have to leave Orion’s ministrations until he was spent and Orion was stuffed right to the brink of bursting. Megatron’s engines purred at the image that conjured, Orion splayed out on his berth, that trim waist rounded out by a gestation tank heavy with Megatron’s sparkling, valve shining with lubricant and field downright desperate as he begged for Megatron to frag him.

“Up.” he grunted, grabbing Orion under the arms and hoisting him to his knees. Orion squeaked, hands flying to his valve as if to keep any transfluid still there from dripping out, and Megatron’s engines revved as he kissed Orion hard again. Orion moaned, rough and staticky but audibly enthusiastic as he kissed back, hands moving from his own valve to Megatron’s sides, where they found vents with slats just the right distance apart for his nimble fingers to slip inside. Megatron’s spike shot the rest of the way to full pressure, and he gripped Orion by the hips with both hands. Orion let out another squeak as he was lifted and turned to sit back-to-chest astride Megatron’s thighs, then a low moan as Megatron sank four fingers into his loose, messy valve.

“Look at him.” he ordered both Orion and Scorponok, palming over the swell of Orion’s belly again and watching Scorponok’s lust-clouded optics track it. “Orion, he will never touch you again. You are _mine_.” Orion clenched around Megatron’s fingers with a low moan, and Megatron withdrew his hand to lift Orion up over his spike. He sank down onto it easily, field flaring with ecstasy, and Megatron nipped at one of Orion’s little pointed audial flares, making the mech jerk and moan. Orion’s arms lifted to wrap around his bent neck, and Megatron thrust up into his clenching valve with as much power as he could muster in his current position. It was enough to make Orion literally bounce on his spike, and Megatron purred his engines at the pitch he knew drove Orion mad.

“Please, please, please.” Orion moaned, and Megatron picked up the pace, one hand on Orion’s hip to steady him and the other splayed possessively over his belly, over _his_ sparkling, the one Scorponok would never, ever get to meet. The first of many sparklings Scorponok would never meet.

“Overload for me.” Megatron growled, and Orion did, valve clenching tight around Megatron’s spike as he kept thrusting in and out of that impossibly wonderful heat. “Mine.” he bit at Orion’s audial flare this time, making the mech in his lap arch and wail. “Mine, mine _mine_.” he gripped Orion tight enough to dent his hips, and dragged his hands up to leave thick black streaks on as much surface area as he could. Orion writhed in his hold, pulling Megatron’s helm from his audial flare to his mouth for a messy, desperate kiss. His hips met Megatron’s with each thrust, until Megatron found Orion’s ceiling node again, and then Orion went taut as a bow and made the most beautiful sound, field flaring with unbridled lust.

“More.” he managed through the static clogging his vocaliser, and Megatron gave it to him, fingers digging even deeper black-smeared dents in Orion’s hip plating as he chased his own overload in Orion’s tight little valve. “Meg- MegatrON!” Orion wailed his name as he overloaded, and Megatron bit at every bit of plating he could reach as he pushed himself towards the edge, his denta closing around armour hard enough to leave unmistakable marks. The tip of his spike caught the rim of the port where Orion’s valve opened into his gestation tank, and Orion threw his helm back in ecstasy as a fresh overload crashed through him, sparks leaping from his frame to ground on Megatron’s.

On his next thrust, Megatron’s spike pierced through that port, and it took every byte of willpower he possessed to do no more than grind his hips against Orion’s as he overloaded. Each spray of transfluid added to the warmth under his palm in Orion’s belly, and as Orion’s overload seemed to milk him of his transfluid he felt the swell of Orion’s stomach rounding out further, his little tank packed tight as a drum. But he still had transfluid left to give, and the constant stimulation of Orion’s valve was keeping his spike more than pressurised enough. He locked optics with Scorponok, whose moans had taken on a distinctly pained quality when Megatron strained his audials to catch them, and thrust up into Orion hard enough the mech’s belly moved under his palm, gestation tank shifting in its supports.

Orion mewled, clawing at the back of his helm, and Megatron let himself be drawn in for another desperate kiss as he continued to make powerful, targeted thrusts up through Orion’s valve, directly into his gestation tank. There would be no spillage, no wasted CNA or building material for his sparkling. And as the carriage progressed, Orion would only grow larger from these sessions, his belly rounding our further and further as Megatron’s transfluid supplied his internal forge with plenty enough raw material to construct a frame for their sparkling.

“Please.” Orion gasped when they parted, and Megatron bit down hard on his audial flare again to make him mewl. “Need- you.” Megatron thrust harder, rocking Orion on his spike with each and every one of them, “Meg-a-tron.”

Megatron growled low and thrust harder, making Orion cry out in sheer ecstasy, his hands falling to scrabble for purchase on Megatron’s thighs. Scorponoks optics were near-white as he watched, the usually-binding tentacles of the fragging machine sunk deep into the sockets of his missing limbs like some macabre puppet, and as Megatron watched the mech’s frame snapped into an arc, charge sparking where the tentacles pierced his frame. Good, let him know what it meant to hurt. Let him know what it meant to lose his right to touch Orion, to so much as look upon him unless Megatron gave permission as he had tonight.

“Overload. For me.” Megatron grunted in Orion’s audial, and he did so beautifully, valve clenching once more around Megatron’s spike. He was sensitive, tender from the overloads he’d already experienced, and the clench of Orion’s valve, the ripple of calipers from the base of his spike to where the tip pierced Orion’s gestation tank, was enough to throw him over the edge again with a roar. He fragged up into Orion with wild abandon, striking at his ceiling node and the rim of his gestation tank port. He managed to get the tip of his spike back through that, and Orion _screamed_ as Megatron dumped the last of his transfluid tanks into him in one powerful spurt, bulging his stomach out another inch.

His spike depressurised immediately after, spurting out a few last weak pumps of transfluid dregs as it shrank out of Orion’s still-clenching valve, and Megatron shifted Orion to give Scorponok a better view of his valve. Loose and open from Megatron’s girth, dribbling out thin strings of pale silver transfluid alongside copious amounts of lubricant. ::Look at him, Scorponok.:: Megatron ordered over comms, and Scorponok whined pitifully. ::Look at him, and remember that he _begged_ me for this. Begged me to ruin him.:: he slid two fingers inside Orion’s valve, and it failed to cycle down on them, calipers thoroughly worn-out.

::You will never see this again.:: he promised, and curled his fingers against a node cluster just behind the carriage-sealed port for Orion’s spike to draw one last overload from the mech in his lap. “That’s a good mech.” he purred as he worked Orion through his overload, frame trembling and vocaliser struggling to form Megatron’s name. “Overload for me one last time, show Scorponok how much you _enjoyed_ this.”

Orion raised a shuddering arm to his helm, and Megatron bent obligingly to capture his lips in a gentle kiss, making Orion moan and shudder again with a fresh gush of lubricant from his valve. “That’s my Orion.” Megatron hefted Orion’s belly in one hand, and considered its weight in his hold. Their sparkling would be strong, with this much prime CNA and raw materials.

Heh, Prime CNA. As if he would ever let Orion become Optimus. Two of that bastard was plenty, and Orion was so precious at this size. Small enough that even if his struts weren’t jellied from such intense overloads Megatron would’ve had to carry him from the room due to the sheer weight of his gestation tank. “Yours.” Orion mumbled with a dazed smile, and Megatron scooped the mech into his arms as he stood, manually closing Orion’s modesty panels.

“He won’t have to see you again.” Megatron promised Scorponok, arranging Orion in one arm. “Nor will any of the others, so long as they carry _my_ sparklings.”

Scorponok whimpered, and Megatron turned away from him, using the remote control of the fragging machine to amp up the charge on the tentacles. Let him suffer, let his processor break down under the onslaught of information until it couldn’t distinguish pain from pleasure. If Megatron had to beat the mech to make him overload after this was all over, all the better.


End file.
